
dear boners
Jet lagged, parched and on public transportation. I take the shuttle bus to bedford and nostrand, the g's not working and waiting at Smith and 9th st. for over a half an hour, the F barely is. It's a gorgeous day as I walk down surf ave, 2 and half hours later. I go to the headquarters, next to the freak bar, get my credentials. The place is packed, Rob the festival director has a ton of enthusiastic supporters. I make a pit stop at nathan's, two chili dogs and a pepsi and then I'm in the black watching "Satan Hates You." A camp horror film about a serial killer and a slut, searching for redemption, they finally find it when the serial killer runs over the slut and the car crashes into a tree killing both instantly. The crowd claps, it's a good crowd. The festival director had sent me a nasty e mail while I was in lisbon, no one has bought a ticket for "Cellar", and in the morning I had received several phone calls about one's ability not to make it to coney island. This is going to be a tough one.
I sit on the boardwalk drinking another pepsi in an ice filled cup. I watch the crowd, the myth that the black family is falling apart is just not true, I see a ton of brothers out here pushing strollers, they may not look happy but they're pushing them. I do a program of shorts, they're all good, competent, well crafted and made with real heart. Half the audience had worked on the films so the room has a nice energy.There's a break and it's seven thirty on surf ave, sun just going down, and the beauty becomes more apparent as I spark a spliff and stroll to the board walk. I make a decision no beer til after nine. I watch a program of horror shorts, one has Adrienne Barbeau in it as a zombie, a great shot of her walking down a suburban street, covered in blood as she has just eaten her husband. I get a beer at the freak bar. I've got several posters with me and with pencil I sign them and draw 10th coney island film festival on them. This draws an audience, most likely the largest I will have tonight.
At ten twenty I go to the upstairs cinema to check the projection, the program is running late, outside for a herbal remedy and buck [Steve Buckley AKA Layton/Clayton from Celluloid#1] walks up, "What are you doing here?" "I'm here supporting the film." I'm shocked, "You're the only one." I have an anamorphic dv cam copy of the film, so I have to check that the projector will do 16 x 9, it's 10:45 and the program has ended. Four cute gals go up the stairs before us, they talk to the projectionist, it seems like they missed the film they had worked on, they beg the projectionist to show it to them. We sit down to watch it, it's short and pretty good. Ten minutes later, I check and ok the projection,then they open the house. Six people come in, so with me buck and the projectionist, we have nine. The film plays, I've seen a lot of film in the past week and I compare Cellar to all those films, I mean there are flaws in my film, but man, it's a real fucking stew, there's meat, celery, garlic and peppers, and though there's only nine of us, the film plays like a well crafted urban symphony, it's an art film, it's a narrative and it really doesn't give a fuck.I am proud of this film. I slide out get buck and I a beer, have a smoke and we're in the party scene at the end. Everyone is still in their seats as the Q n A begins and they are extremely enthusiastic about the film. "I have brought some gifts and I want to ask you some questions. What was the drunk mexican guys name who was always in the deli?" "Pueblo" I hand a poster out. "What country was Luz from?" "Colombia" I handed out all the posters and everyone got a dvd copy of the film. Jenny Kim arrives to support the filmmaker. There are four really cute guys, in spanish I ask them if they are Colombians, no ruski. we are Daisy's friends,. Daisy is spiritually in the house. All of us are on surf ave and everyone heads towards the trains, it's been a long week. My nerves are frayed.
kisses
the boned